


Dance With Me?

by tarthserjaime



Category: Game of Thrones RPF
Genre: Clubbing, Dirty Dancing, Drunken Confessions, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29330070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarthserjaime/pseuds/tarthserjaime
Summary: What a stupid thing to write a song about.
Relationships: Gwendoline Christie/Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 9
Kudos: 27





	Dance With Me?

**Author's Note:**

> I am working on some of my other fics, for those of you who have been asking! In the meantime, please accept this drabble I've just finished at 3am. Sorry for any mistakes, I'm so sleepy now lol. As always, feedback means a lot and I love engaging with you guys, so let me know if you have any requests or ideas. Enjoy!

“If you’re going to share my earphones with me we’re listening to what I want to listen to.” Gwen declared. Nikolaj rolled his eyes. “Then why would I want to share them? What’s the fun in it besides judging your music taste?” Gwen scoffed, shifting in the train seat and driving her legs up the back of the seat in front of her. They were the only ones in the car, so they took the chance of sitting together. 

“My music taste is amazing. You have dad tastes.” 

“What the hell does that even mean? What is a dad taste?” Nikolaj broke his gaze from out of the window to look a her. Gwen felt her cheek flush when she realized he was studying her face. “I don’t know, probably The Beatles. Bon Jovi, Bruce Springsteen.” 

“Bruce Springsteen is an absolute legend-“

“ _God._ ” Gwen rolled her eyes. Her point exactly, she thought. “Listen to this.” She shuffled her iTunes playlist on her phone before she thrust it into his hand so that he could look at the album cover. “Puberty 2.” He read aloud, squinting at the screen. It was a new Mitski album— ever since she’d been introduced to the artist she hadn’t heard a song she didn’t love. Dan the Dancer had been the first track to play. She felt Nikolaj’s eyes on her again when the song began to play. 

“What, are you a teenaged girl?” 

Gwen screwed her face up into an incredulous look, ready to tear Nikolaj apart on his sheer ignorance of Indie Rock. “A teenaged girl? What- because it’s indie music?”

“I don’t know what that is, but it sounds like a bunch of teen— _angst_ , to me.” Nikolaj went to pull the earbud out of his ear, but Gwen grabbed his wrist. It was strong and warm under her grasp. 

“Will you give it a chance before you do that thing you do?” 

Nikolaj made a weak attempt to wiggle his wrist out of her grip before defeatedly letting go. “The lyrics don’t even make any sense. Why is she screaming about a guy dancing? What does that even mean?” 

That’s when Gwen realized. “You think—“ Before she could finish, a snicker escaped her lips. She held it back, because she knew Nikolaj hated it when she laughed at him; it put him into is diva mood. “What?” He whined, already getting defensive. “She’s talking about this guy dancing alone in his room. It’s just weird, I don’t see why you need to make a song about it.” His hand were up now, pleading his case through choppy gestures. 

“Nikolaj she’s not— just listen.” 

Nikolaj took this as an opportunity to listen to the lyrics purely so that he could dissect them and express how meaningless they were, like much of the songs in the English language; as he reminded Gwen every time they talked about music. 

_‘Cause Dan had never danced outside of his room  
When no one was home and he would start to hear the door  
So when he moved with you  
And felt his body let go  
Of course you couldn't know  
It was you and you alone  
That he had shown his bedroom dancer to_

When he realized that the song wasn’t about dancing at all, Nikolaj felt the embarrassment rise in his throat as his ears began to redden. He hated to admit to himself that he liked the song, and furthermore, that he imagined himself in it alongside Gwendoline, their bodies meeting, hot and heavy, for the first time. Her nimble fingers trailing over his body, releasing years of tension in their wake. Suddenly, Nikolaj was aware of her hip lightly touching his and the full view he had of her inner thighs from the way she was perched in her seat. He noticed the casual brush of her bare arm against his, and the way he could feel her breathing. The way he could smell her. 

He looked at her now, and his scarlet ears were met wth the matching flush of Gwen’s neck and chest. Her eyes were set on him, softer now, as his body language changed. She quickly broke their mutual trance by glancing down at her phone. A small voice in the back of his mind told him that she was thinking the same thoughts as him. Maybe he was a vapid narcissist after all. He pushed the thoughts away as he started to bounce his leg instinctively, as if to shake the butterflies out of his chest— and his groin. The song trailed off. 

He cleared his throat. “So the guy isn’t dancing.” Gwen shook her head quietly. “Not quite, no.”

There was a silence between them for a moment as the next song played. Nikolaj and Gwen hadn’t experienced this before. It was never awkward between them— they were always in sync, never missing a beat with one another. Every opportunity was filled with a joke or a jab or a retort; so much so that there was no room for anything more than a stray glance for an odd thought, but right now nothing could be said. The tension was too tangible, too real. They were confronted with the sexual nature of their relationship with no barriers to make it dismissible. 

Nikolaj spoke up to break the bind. “Can we listen to Eric Clapton next?” 

The solution to the problem of the train ride was to never bring it up again. It was a silent, mutual agreement between Nikolaj and Gwen. They’d gone through the week as normal, doing press for season 6, texting each other in short bouts if snark and ample gifs on Gwen’s end, and briefly exchanging greetings at bars, always awkwardly distanced from one another. But tonight was a Saturday night in a major city, which meant some rich fucker somewhere was having a massive media party, and, of course, the cast of Game of Thrones was invited. 

Gwen, as much as she insisted she was an introvert, loved a good party. Maybe it was the music and alcohol, or maybe it was the attention, but you could always count on her to be at the center of it all. As much as Nikolaj wished he had something better to do than get drunk off of overpriced scotch and avoid the flocks of the region’s finest upper-middle class women (who were all at least 15 years younger than him and probably coked out 7 times out of 10), he didn’t. His wife was mad at him for some unspoken reason or another and had made her rage apparent through text message this time, and he needed a way to shake off the headache. 

“So I told her, if you’ve got a fuckin’ problem with me after all this time, keep it to yourself. This is my fuckin’ job. I know she’s your mate and all Nik but she’s a right crazy bitch, that one!” If Nikolaj was hoping to get rid of the noise in his head, he hadn’t yet. Jerome had downed his 4th lager and was shout-venting about Lena. The club music was pounding in his ears and he could feel it in his eyes. _Maybe he was too old for this scene_ , he thought to himself. Nikolaj turned opposite from the bar and leaned his elbows on it with a sigh, sloshing his single malt so that the ice clinked against the glass. After 3 of them, his head was a bit fuzzy, to tell the truth. 

“I’ll tell her to leave you alone!” He called out, glancing at Jerome and then looked down into his drink with blurred vision before knocking back the rest of the contents. He swallowed, grimacing as the burn coated the back of his throat. “Yeah, she’ll listen to you!” Jerome nodded. “She’s all over you!” Nikolaj didn’t need a reminder; his wife was quite preoccupied with the concept. Just as he thought of all the things his wife seemed to be “preoccupied” with, Jerome nudged his shoulder and pointed into the crowd. “Speaking of all over you, I guess not tonight!” He shouted over some Jay-Z song. 

Imposing over most of the nearby crowd, swaying to the beat seemingly enraptured was Gwen. Her hair was swept back from her glistening face, lipstick smudged and clearly shit faced. Nikolaj’s posture tensed as he watched her dance against some random guy. Jerome leaned closer. “Lucky fucker!” He shouted. Nikolaj didn’t take his eyes off of her, despite the strobing lights making her difficult to follow. She stumbled in her heels, laughing it off and shaking her ass. Through the crowd, another man seemed to be making his way over towards her. Oblivious, Gwen kept dancing, her arms now thrown over the shoulders of the first guy. The second man pressed against her from behind, startling Gwen for a moment. He began to dance, too. Repeatedly, Gwen kept glancing behind her, but never turning in an effort to maintain her balance. Nikolaj turned to tell Jerome, but he was gone, having wandered off. 

Nikolaj set his glass down, deciding he’d seen enough. When he pushed off of the counter, the room spun a bit, and he stumbled. He was drunker than he thought. Nevertheless, he pressed on, meandering through the horde of bodies toward Gwen. 

For a moment, Emilia caught his arm. He looked down at her, catching her big brown eyes glimmering in the dim lights. “Dance with me?” She leaned in so he’d hear her. Nikolaj put his hand over hers, giving a small smile. “I can’t, I’m sorry. I have to go.” With that, he gently removed her grasp. Her smile faltered, her she nodded curtly and made her way around him. “Next time!” She turned, and dipped into the crowd. Nikolaj didn’t have time to process what’d just happened, as he finally fought his way to Gwen, who’d amassed a group of voyeurs to her menage a trois of sorts. 

Nikolaj put his hand on the shoulder of the first guy, who, upon turning, looked vaguely familiar. He still couldn’t place it. “I’ve got this one.” Even drunk, he was so effortlessly smug. The guys scoffed, shouldering past Nikolaj. Gwen looked up from the dance floor to realize who was in front of her. Her eyes lit up, and grabbing him by the wrist, she pulled him into her. “Nikolaj, you’re here! Let’s dance!” She shouted, followed by a loud call over the music. The other man, probably realizing he was no longer a factor, had disappeared. 

Nikolaj had never seen Gwen this drunk. She was gyrating all over him, clearly not giving a care in the world what anyone would have to say about the way in which she danced on a married man. He was grateful that the crowd seemed more or less uninterested in them now that the spectacle was over. Nikolaj just watched her for a second, the way her eyes, filled with mischief, washed over him. She pulled him close and raked her hands through his hair— he could feel all of her between the thin fabric and his own body. She smelled like expensive perfume, citrus, and vodka. He took it in, listening to her breathing against him. He wondered, just for a moment, if she’d pant like that with his hands on her body; with him inside her. Suddenly, he felt himself start to get hard. Trying to get some distance between them before she felt it, Nikolaj stumbled backward. Gwen caught him swiftly, even in her inebriation. She winked at him. “Careful!” She called out. “I’ve got youuu!” Giggling, Gwen spun around Nikolaj, her hands all around his shoulders and chest. She shifted between glancing seductively at him and rolling her eyes back into her head, lost in a sensory whirlwind. He wondered if alcohol was the only thing she’d had tonight.

“Gwen!” He called out, the fog over his head growing heavier. He could feel his pulse in his pants. God, it ached. “Gwendoline!” Her eyes fluttered back to reality, as she locked eyes with him. “Nikolaj.” She responded, trying hard to maintain seriousness. His eyes traveled down to the neckline of her dress, which was dipping down, revealing just the cusp of her breasts. He swallowed hard, but his mouth was dry. Gwen noticed, biting her lip and slowing her movements down purposely. Something had to give.

“I want to dance with you!” He blurted. 

“What?” Gwen leaned closer, nearly tripping over Nikolaj’s shoe. He steadied her by her waist, his anxiety rising quickly and washing over him as he pressed his fingers into her soft hips. What was he doing?

“I said I want to dance with you!” He repeated, pushing all of his jumbled thoughts away.

Gwen smiled at him sweetly. “We are dancing, silly!” 

“I don’t mean!…” Nikolaj pulled away to look into her eyes, unable to finish his sentence. For a moment, the tension was one sided. Nikolaj regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, and he hoped she simply wouldn’t understand. Then, Gwen stopped smiling, coming to the slow realization of what he meant. 

The music was fading out, and the DJ came on overhead. “It’s just about that time. Let’s take it back with a slow set, y’all.” 

Suddenly, the strobing lights changed, glowing a softened, steadily blue over everyone. The introductory beat of a slow song began. It was oddly sobering. Panicked, Nikolaj backtracked. “I-I’m sorry Gwen, I’m drunk and—“ 

Gwen’s face was unreadable. He searched her for an indication of disgust or betrayal or anger and found nothing. Finally, she spoke. 

“I think we should get out of here.” 

Gwendoline hadn’t taken her eyes off Nikolaj the entire time; through the glassy blue lacquer of the LED lights, they were filled with what he now realized was lust. 

“Gwen, listen!” Nikolaj lowered his voice, realizing they didn’t need to yell over the music anymore to be heard. “You’re drunk, I’m drunk, I don’t think this is—“ 

“I know what I’m saying, Nikolaj.” She didn’t break that laser gaze of hers. It send chills across his skin. She looked around at the couples around them swaying to John Legend, and at the people against the walls guarding cups of alcohol and chatting, and when she found no eyes on them she lowered her own voice. “I want to dance with you.” She swallowed, the beginnings of a blush rising on her cheeks and chest. 

“I want you.”


End file.
